


A Slice of Pie

by Percilout



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, cursing, might become a slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22203487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percilout/pseuds/Percilout
Summary: When Jaskier stumbles over the new bakery on his way to work, he‘s surprised to find something there that makes him want to come back for more.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 29
Kudos: 163





	A Slice of Pie

He was grumpily making his way through the dark streets when it suddenly began to rain. As if his morning hadn’t already been the worst. Now he would arrive at work angry, with sore feet, and wet as a water rat. Couldn’t his car have decided to finally give up on life during the holidays? Then he could have at least gotten a repair or, looking at the state of his beloved little Ford Fiesta, more likely an entirely new car.

But all the grumbling in the world would not be able to get him to the school, which is why he was currently walking through the rainy streets at half past six in the morning. Half past six! Whose idea was it to introduce seven A.M. classes anyway? That must have been an evil masochist’s work.

Two minutes later, the rain began to fade away for a moment just to return even more forcefully. He really hated his whole existence sometimes. His clothes clung to his body uncomfortably and his shoes made a disgusting squelching sound with every new step he took.

He briefly considered simply turning around again, pulling his probably also very much wet phone out of his pocket, and calling in sick for the day. But just when the thought crossed his mind, he suddenly noticed something that made him stop in his tracks.

Huh. The Witcher. That’s a strange name for what looks like a bakery.

He was also pretty sure that there had been a different bakery there just two weeks ago. He knew because he’d had to take a detour with his car because some idiot had driven right into the stoplight and completely blocked his usual route to work. The bakery he had seen on his drive had looked fairly old and mostly like your grandma would appreciate its flavourful pies and hearty breads. This new bakery, however, looked more like a child’s most fantastical dream. In about a fraction of a second, he was decided on walking into the shop and buying himself a slice of pie. At this point in life, he felt that he more than deserved it.

When he entered the little shop, the smell of freshly baked bread and apple pie made him smile. The counter was packed with beautifully decorated pies and, he estimated, a hundred different kinds of pastries. There was no one else inside, which didn’t shock him much, as the rain made everyone he saw walking around outside flee into their cars or homes.

Part of the counter ran along the entire right side of the shop. He took his time looking at the cakes set up on it. One looked like it was taken straight out of a fairy tale, with chocolate and what seemed to be bits of candy floss arranged as a small forest. He had to fight to keep his mouth shut at the details on the little dragon sitting on top of a rock, spewing fire onto the woods below it.

He turned back around to the main counter, wondering where the shop assistants might be – for the shop had even been empty of them-, when a man entered the store from a backdoor, wiping his floury hands on a rag. And he promptly regretted ever having set foot in that bakery. His mind was already halfway on its way to making him run out the door when the man noticed him and gave him a crooked smile.

“Good morning, Sir. Found anything you want yet?”

It probably was too late for running now. God, he was so stupid, he should have just walked on pitying himself, like he always did these days. Should have kept on walking to work, not giving in to the temptation of sweet goods at barely dawn.

The man opposite him frowned deeply. “Sir?”

“Uh”, he stuttered. “No, I haven’t yet.”

“Oh. Feel free to keep on looking. I suggest the rye bread, though.”

The man then turned around and began rearranging the breads on their shelves. Which thankfully left him with some time to close his eyes and breathe in deeply. God, did this really have to happen? He had never liked running into people he had known in his youth, but accidentally running into his high school crush? Seriously?

There was something that made him stop short, though. He was pretty sure he could have recognised Geralt of Rivia anywhere and at any time in the whole wide world but it seemed that Geralt didn’t recognise him in return. Had he completely forgotten him? The thought kind of hurt. Although, to be fair, it had been thirteen years and they had never interacted much. Or ever, really.

As such, he took another deep breath and decided to just let it go. He would simply buy a slice or two of pie and leave and never come back again. Of course, that is not how it then happened.

“Is this bakery new?” he asked, mentally face-palming himself immediately afterwards.

“Huh?” Geralt turned back around to him, squinting his eyes – his beautiful, beautiful eyes – at him. “Oh. Not really. Just took over from an old friend. Modernised it a bit.”

Well, that explained the sudden shift in decoration.

He had to fight himself to not blurt out “I’d never have thought you’d become a baker!” and instead said: “It’s a beautiful store. The cakes look absolutely amazing. I don’t even understand how such things can be created! And it smells so incredible in here, I have to actively stop myself from drooling.”

Geralt frowned at him some more. He blushed. That wasn’t much better than admitting to knowing him.

“Glad you- “, the baker hesitated, “appreciate it. Not many do.”

He gasped.

“What do you _mean_ not many people appreciate it? What’s there not to appreciate about it? Those are marvellous pieces of craftsmanship! I really must say that I feel deeply offended by that.”

Again, he started worrying about having overstepped a line. But then he saw a corner of Geralt’s mouth lift minutely. However, the man looked like he wanted to counter with something but before he could, he quickly interrupted him.

“No. Seriously. I mean it. And I’ll take five slices of your best pies. And some of those cinnamon rolls.”

Geralt just stared at him.

“And an éclair,” he added.

The baker made a noise that sounded vaguely like a snort and even more vaguely like a laugh and made him blush again. Maybe he should stop talking for once.

In the meantime, Geralt had apparently decided not to take a look into a gift horse’s mouth and was packaging several of the pastries he had listed.

“Alright,” he said when everything was packed up. “I’ll let you buy these under one condition.”

Suddenly wide-eyed, he swallowed. Had he done something wrong? Had he offended Geralt somehow? Did he remember who he was? Would he now tell him to leave and never come back again?

“Yeah?”

“You tell me your name and promise not to come back again this week.”

“Technically, that’s two conditions,” he blurted out. Stupid idiot that he was.

“You tell me your name so that I can make sure that my co-worker knows exactly who isn’t allowed to buy any more sweets this week.”

“Oh.” Geralt really looked serious about it.

“I’m J- “, he stopped. Oh god, he couldn’t tell him his name. He couldn’t tell him his real name because then he would definitely remember him and that just could _not_ happen.

“Just call me Jaskier,” he said and fished his wallet out of his still soaking wet messenger bag. He did feel a bit bad about drenching the entire floor in the water that had accumulated in his shoes.

“Jaskier,” Geralt replied, watching him with a doubtful eye.

“Yes. Jaskier. It’s a beautiful name. Don’t judge me for it.”

“Hmm.” Geralt eyed him a bit more. “Anyway, Jaskier, I’m Geralt. Now take your pie and don’t you dare come back this week.”

Jaskier, as he had now decided to call himself, promptly grabbed his bought goods and hurried outside.

“Yes, thank you, bye!”

He nearly made a fool out of himself by stumbling over the store’s threshold but managed to catch himself on the doorframe. Feeling even more embarrassed than he already had before, he then got into a little jog to get as far away from the bakery as possible.

His mind raced. Jaskier? Really? No one had called him by that name in years. But at least he didn’t exactly have to lie about a name. And he was a hundred percent sure that Geralt had never heard of this particular nickname of his. This could have gone worse, really.

Jaskier turned around the next corner when he looked at his phone just to see that he was wrong. It was 6:55 A.M. and his class would start in 5 minutes. He got into a run.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the Witcher discord and my friend Hayden. This wouldn't exist if it weren't for them <3


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